Saturday, 21 December 2013


Winter Solstice - 21st December 2013

The eyelids of the elder year have drooped and closed
as it slowly sank into inexorable and welcome slumber.
Now there’s a calming softness in the half-light of the new day.
On the surface of the lane the frostiness of dawn
reflects the shyly-peeping sun,
like tarnished silver fused in a mackerel-skin sky
where still lurks the shadow
of the half-spent moon.
The sycamore by the farmhouse is oblivious to errant rooks
discussing weighty matters,
and from which a loud triumvirate departs
to issue stern decrees.
On an ancient oak, noted for its breadth of years,
orange leaves still cling tenaciously to sapless branches
before they join the sour cowl that shelters seeds of life,
fully-filled, like the whole earth,
with the promise of rebirth.

Sunday, 1 December 2013


Autumn – Early Morning

The watchman rook awakes his kin,
slumbering in the nearby communal copse,
eager to debate the doings of the day.
From the hedgerow’s cover,
a silly harlequin-clad pheasant,
oblivious to the coming guns,
shrieks like a rusty wheelbarrow
to mock the hungry fox, now gone to ground.
The curving edge of earth’s horizon
is haloed by a ghostly glow
before the shy sun slowly shows itself,
reflecting in the covering of cloud
only a dim replica of dawning day;
but we who have known darkness
will welcome, once again,
even the shadow-semblance of light.